


Better than Expected

by Adapted_Batteries



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, The Yogscast
Genre: F/M, Gen, don't want to spoil things with tags, muscian, music writing, new character I made, univeristy student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adapted_Batteries/pseuds/Adapted_Batteries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrea, an amateur musician and gamer, travels to the UK to study at the University of Bristol for a Masters in psychology, but ends up doing much more than she anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally a daydream I had about myself and the Yogscast, which developed into a story. You can read it as yourself, or read as the character Andrea. Some locations are real, some made up. Also, I don’t know how busy a master’s degree would be, and I’m probably greatly underestimating it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea travels to Bristol from America.

Today was the day. Soon, I’d be on my way to the UK to study for my masters in psychology at the University of Bristol. It was fortunate coincidence that I happened to get a full ride scholarship in the same city Yogscast was based in, though I didn’t really think I’d ever meet them. I looked up to all of them, having inspired me to start my own youtube channel which had a small following of a thousand subscribers.  


Flying halfway across the world was a bit daunting, but once I was over the Atlantic, the excitement really started to kick in. There was no going back, I was gonna spend about a year studying in the country I’ve dreamed of visiting for years. I never actually thought I’d get the scholarship either, but everything seemed to work in my favor as soon as I applied to the university. Even my visa arrived in the mail earlier than normal. It was as if fate was trying its hardest to get me over to England.  


I arrived right on time at Bristol Airport, 10:15 am. I planned my arrival to be in the morning of move in day so I would be busy most of the day, to try to ease my adjustment and jet lag. I took the bus from the airport to uni, lugging my large suitcase and my guitar case. It was a fairly short ride, only 45 minutes to the station, from where I made the short walk to the campus. Fortunately it was just a cloudy day, no rain in the forecast.  


The campus was bustling with the new students moving in as I followed my map on my phone to my flat. I’d be sharing with 6 other people, and we all talked a bit about who was bringing what in terms of electronics, though I couldn’t provide much in that area. I’d have a box with some personal items arriving soon, but for now I had everything I really needed in my suitcase and backpack. I was glad I already got as much as I could set up before I left America, having cell service and a bank account allowed me to focus on buying things I would need, like bedding and school supplies.  


I checked in at the lobby, getting my key for the flat. It was on the 4th floor, but thankfully there was an elevator. My arms were quite tired when I arrived at my flat, 401c. I heard people inside, so instead of struggle with my items, I knocked on the door with my foot. Someone opened the door quickly, whose face I recognized to be Mary. She was shorter than me by a few inches, but otherwise looked like her picture from the group message. She had a brown pixie cut that suited her face well, and a bit of a punky vibe, based on the black jeans, a few tattoos, and band t-shirt.  


“Hey Andrea!” she said as she opened the door for me. “Sam and Kathy are here,” she continued, motioning to the two people standing in the living room area, “Rob said he’d be here around 1, and James is on his way.” She continued walking towards the rooms. “Kathy got here first and took the single, so I guess you’re bunking with me.” We walked past what I assumed was Kathy’s room, a small single that was decorated colorfully with art and photos, matching Kathy’s hipster style. Mary and I’s room was much larger, more than two singles put together. She seemed to be in the process of decorating, some posters were already on the wall, and some were on her bed. I recognized some, and was happy when I saw a Twin Atlantic poster.  


“I see you like Twin Atlantic,” I say as I drop my guitar case and backpack on the bare mattress on the other side of the room.  


“Yeah, got to see them in concert a few months ago, it was great,” she answered as she sat on her own bed.  


“I was able to catch them in America about a year ago.” I started unpacking my large suitcase, putting my already sorted clothes in the wardrobe and dresser. “After I get unpacked I’ll need to go actually buy bedding and toiletries,” I continued, not trying to seem like I was begging her to go with me.  


“I saw some cool stuff recently at Argos, Which isn’t far away from us. We can go once you’re done,” she said as she sorted her posters.  


“That’d be great.” Once I’d unpacked and sorted my things, Mary and I left for Cabot Circus around 11:45 am. She was right, they did have some nice bedding, and for not too much. Since carrying bedding and towels was a bit of a hand full, we went back to the flat before heading back out to Sainsbury’s and Ryman for toiletries, school supplies, and jaffa cakes.  


On the way to the shops, we passed a little bike shop advertising a summer sale on used bikes. I stopped by the window to look in, and a light blue mountain bike with a red sticker on it caught my eye. "I was thinking about getting a bike, I like cycling and it'd be useful for getting around," I said to Mary as she stood next to me.  


"We can go in if you want. I prefer to walk, mainly because I don't have much cash on my right now," she said. Taking the cue, I went in the shop, saying hello to the owner behind the counter as I walked towards the blue bike.  


"This one just went on sale today," the elderly man said, "went down from £70 to £50." I'd originally set a mental budget of £65 for a bike, so this was perfect. The bike itself was exactly what I needed, something not too large but comfortable to ride, and it even had a small luggage rack on the back. I quickly glanced around the store but I already had my mind made up. The owner noticed my concentration on the bike, so he patted the handlebar and said, "Go ahead and sit on it, make sure it feels alright." So I sat on it, and it felt good. The seat wasn't too hard.  


"I'll take it," I said as I got off the bike. "Do you happen to sell locks too?" I asked.  


"Yes, they're right over there," he said as he motioned to a rack with some bike accessories as he walked to the register. I looked over the cables, choosing one with a combination and key lock for £8 and brought it to the counter. The owner tapped the keys of the register, looking at the blue bike as he hit the price, then at the cable I picked. "It comes to £73." I got my wallet out of my back pocket, a bit embarrassed that I hadn't made a new duct tape wallet yet to replace my old union jack duct tape one, but as I handed the owner the money, he smiled. "Nice wallet, did you make it?" he asked.  


"Yeah," I answered, blushing slightly. The receipt printed as he pushed the cable towards me. He then handed me the receipt, then grabbed scissors and walked over to the bike to cut off the price tag.  


"There you go, it's all yours now," he said. I kicked the kickstand back and turned it to go outside. "Have a nice day!"  


"Thanks, you too," I said as Mary got the door for me.  


I walked the rest of the way with Mary, and used the newly bought cable to chain my bike to the rack outside Ryman. I was glad I brought my backpack with me, I was able to shove the binder, notebooks, pens, etc. that I needed for classes while we went to Sainsbury’s.  


It took less time to get everything I needed than I thought, we were back at the flat by 1 pm. James had already arrived, and was installing his Playstation console to the tv that Sam brought. Rob still wasn’t here yet, but It was just now 1 pm anyway. Mary helped carry the bags while I carried some and my backpack to our room, and proceeded to dump all the things on my bed to sort. My hand quickly migrated to the bag that had the jaffa cakes in them, and I proceeded to eat a couple before sorting the rest of the items. About 15 minutes into my sorting, I heard a knock on the door, so I went out to see who it was. Kathy opened the door for Rob, who had his hands full with his suitcase and a box.  


Rob loved to cook, so everyone let him be in charge of all the pots and pans and such. The cardboard box clanked as he sat it down on the kitchen counter, and in the wake of my sorting frenzy, I immediately went to sorting the kitchen utensils. Rob was quite thorough in his selection; there were several items I didn’t think he would bring like a full set of various knives or a wok. If he could properly use these tools, dinners were going to be amazing in our flat.  


Everyone else had brought something for the flat like the tv, gaming console, kitchen things, Kathy’s handmade rug for the living area, and Mary’s 2 saucer chairs to add to the cheap sofa and chair already in the living room, but I hadn’t been able to bring anything. I would be going grocery shopping later, but Rob had more expertise in spices than I did. The only thing I did have that no one else seemed to was my acoustic guitar. It wasn’t much, but many people had complimented me over the years on my soothing guitar melodies. Surely a relaxing evening would be beneficial to all my flatmates, or a rambunctious night of improvisation most likely influenced by alcohol. 

The first week in Bristol was great, once my sleeping schedule adjusted. I was able to get my books from the university bookstore, and I liked my lecture schedule. Most of my classes were in the morning, with research sections every Tuesday and Thursday. The bike was very useful for getting around quickly, and it was great to just bike around when it wasn’t pouring.  


About a month after I arrived, while walking past a bulletin board on the way to my bike from a lecture, a certain piece of paper caught my eye. It read, “Guitarist needed, experience in a band setting, writing and/or improv., mixing or recording is preferred.” I fit all the requirements; I had been playing for 7 years, played in a band for 4 of those 7 years, and managed the few recordings we did make. I took out my phone and typed the number on the board in, though I found it odd that there was a number instead of an email for contact. Fortunately the weather was decent, so I went outside and found a nice bench near the bike rack. I was a bit nervous, calling a complete stranger, but I sucked it up for opportunity's sake and hit the call button.  


It rang twice, then some one answered. "Hello?"  


"Hi, I'm calling about your need for a guitarist," I answered.  


"Oh, yeah, that was quick, I only posted that this morning. We're working on a project to create a few themed songs, and need another guitarist. Why don't we meet up to discuss it more?"  


"Sure, when would like to meet up?" I heard fumbling, like the person was checking their calendar on their phone. I heard them mumbling too, something about recording.  


"How's 5 tonight for you?"  


I thought for a minute, "That's fine. Where would you like to meet?"  


"Well, considering you're most likely a uni student, how about the café down on Coulston Street?"  


"Works for me, but I'd like to know who I'm looking for when I get there."  


"My name's Alex, ginger hair, I'll have a maroon t-shirt on." My heart leaped at that description. Surely it was just a coincidence, I wasn't gonna actually meet Smith.  


Regaining my composure, I answered, "My name's Andrea, brown hair," I paused to look at my shirt, it happened to be a Minecraft shirt, "um, and a Minecraft shirt." I don't know why I was embarrassed, but but i couldn't help it.  


"Oooh, you're a gamer?" He asked.  


"Heh...uh yeah, a bit." I stop as I hear yelling in the background, which sounded a bit like Trott, and heard a muffled Alex yelling something back.  


"Sorry about that, so 5 at the café on Coulston, looking for girl gamer." More yelling happened, this time Alex seemed to forget to not yell into the phone. "I'm almost done, if you keep interrupting I'll shove it up your arse Scrottimus!" There was an awkward pause as he realized that he'd yelled at me, but then I couldn't keep from giggling as he confirmed his identity for me. "Uh, sorry, didn't mean to yell in your ear, I'll, er, get you a coffee for that."  


"It's fine, but I'd rather have tea," I say.  


I could feel he was going to do one of his gritted teeth comments, but he seemed to refrain and instead chuckle. "That's fine. See you at 5 then."  


"Heh ok, bye" I say, then hung up.  


My stomach was doing flips. I'd just talked to Smiffy! And I was gonna possibly make music with, assuming, Hat Films! I made my way back to my flat, determined to keep my cool as best as I could.  


When I got home, Mary was in the living area eating, and Sam was in his room working. I had told Mary a bit about what youtube I watched, and she knew who the Yogscast were. As she looked up and saw my face, a flushed mix of excitement and nervousness, she immediately asked what was up. "You'll never guess who I'm meeting at 5 to discuss a possible gig with!" I say as I pull up a chair at the counter.  


"Who?" She asked in between bites of her sandwich.  


"Smith from Hat Films!" I exclaim, giggling again.

"Woah, really?"

"Yeah, he posted a paper on a bulletin board looking for a guitarist this morning and I happened to walk by it. I meet all the qualifications he wanted, so he's gonna meet me at 5 at The Lantern on Coulston." I'd been there once before with Katie and Mary, so I knew my way.

"I'm really happy for you! Does he know you're a fan though?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I don't think so though. But he's bound to figure it out tonight." I knew containing myself would be hard so I wasn't going to too much.

"Well have fun," she said, looking at her watch, "I've got to go to class, see ya later!" She said as she ate the last of her sandwich and left.

I went to our room, dumped my bag on my bed, and started to play my guitar. I wasn't going to even bring it tonight, but playing helped me calm down so I could study. Time seemed to pass ever so slowly, but once it finally got to 4:50 pm, I left my flat to meet Smith.


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea meets Smith for the first time.

It had been an off and on rainy Wednesday, and I was 2 minutes from the café when it spontaneously started to pour. Traffic failed to cooperate as well, making the 2 minutes turn into 5. After I hastily locked up my bike outside the café, I walked in thoroughly soaked. Thankfully, I left with a couple minutes extra just in case, and was only 3 minutes past 5 pm. The café wasn’t too full, with a smattering of people in the shop. My eyes quickly found Smith in one of the booths along the wall, nursing a drink while looking at his phone. Butterflies flitted about in my stomach as I slowly made my way to him. _I can't screw this up,_ I thought. I knew it would be worse off later if I decided to hide the fact I was a massive fan, but part of me wanted to _ _. _I'd just tell him when the conversation allowed _.____

As I neared the table, Smith looked up at me. "You must be cold, why don't I go get that tea I owe you," he said with a smirk, looking at my soaked hair and clothes.

"That would be lovely," I say as he got up. "Earl grey would be great, it's my favorite."

"I'll be right back," he said, and went to the counter. I could've sworn he winked, though I was on the verge of shivering and no doubt nervously hallucinating with the adrenaline pumping through my veins. I sat down across from his cup, jumping at the cold seat. It was still pouring outside, the window was covered in droplets.

Within a few minutes he was back with a cup in his hand. "Here ya go," he said as he sat it down on the table. He suddenly smirked again, then wittily said, "your tea, earl grey, hot." I couldn't help but smile, on the verge of giggling again. "Trekkie?" he asked me, but he already knew the answer.

"Oh yes, definitely," I say, refraining from doing a Vulcan salute. Instead I grabbed the cup with both hands, readily soaking in the heat from the tasty beverage inside.

"I guess now's a good time to do a whole get-to-know-you thing, so what other fandoms or hobbies do you have, Andrea?" I try to sort my thoughts as best as I could, for when it came to fandoms I became quite the rambler.

"Well, I'm in quite a few fandoms, like Doctor Who, Sherlock, and Supernatural. When I'm not watching shows, or Youtube, I'll be reading, writing, making stuff up on my guitar or playing games, if I'm not studying," I started, watching his facial expressions as I listed off things.

"What Youtubers do you watch?" I hesitated to answer, what I said here would make the difference later.

"I watch several people regularly, like charlieissocoollike, Dan and Phil, and Vsauce to name a few, but I probably watch Yogscast the most." I felt my face go red, and I saw him register it, but I pressed on. "Yeah, I'm a Hatter too. I wasn't sure it was you at first on the phone, until you yelled at Trott."

For some reason I thought he would be annoyed with me, but instead all my fears melted away in the beam of his smile. "You know, if you hadn't told me you were a fan, I wouldn't have guessed. And I'm not gonna turn you away either based on that. You seem to seem to have skill, which we need. Do you have any of your work with you?"

A wave of relief washed over me. I had no reason to be scared now. "Yeah, my band put up a music video a few years back. It's not great or anything, but I made do with what I had." I pulled up the video on my phone, and got earbuds out of my pocket so indie rock wasn't blasting for the whole café to hear. I handed the phone and earbuds to Smith, and watched him listen to my creation. When I expected him to cringe or mask pity with a fake smile, he instead smiled warmly, breaking the look of concentration on his face.

When the video finished, he handed my phone back to me. "You did quite a lot with little programming, what did you use to create it?"

He didn't hate it! He even complimented me on it. It gave my confidence the final boost it needed. "Well, I used basic recording software, then used some free video editing software I have. As far as recording, everything went through an 8 - channel mixer which fed to my computer. The camera was a friend's, and we spent most of the day recording video. Hard work, but I loved doing it."

"I can tell, though it's certainly not professional, it was made with care, and that's what we're looking for. Our songs may be a bit less serious," he paused as he subconsciously rubbed his neck, "considering they'll be game or funny incident themed. Did you write lyrics much for your band?"

"Sometimes," I answered. "It was mainly a group task, since we all liked to write. It usually started with a sentence or thought from one person which then was expanded by the band." Smith nodded, as if to urge me on. “I mainly worked on the music end, making riffs and working with keys to make the main chord progression.” I took a sip of my tea, signalling that I didn’t have anything else to say on that topic. There was a bit of a pause as he followed suit.

“Well I guess I don’t really need to tell you about the channel, but I’d like to have a group jam session soon to see how everything works, and maybe get some song ideas going. We don’t have a deadline of sorts, rather they’re projects we’ve wanted to get back into doing. Since we’ve got recordings to do as well, this will be spread out as long as it needs.”

“I’m not sure how busy I’ll be with classes, most of them are in the morning though, so afternoons and evenings are good for me. I do have research labs on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they tend to be from 8:30am to 3pm.”

“That’s fine. How would Friday afternoon be for you? Around 4?” He asked. I looked at my phone’s calendar, my last lecture ended at 12:50 pm, so I had more than enough time to get there, wherever “there” was going to be.

“I can do 4. Where are you wanting to jam?” I asked. I’d love to go to Yogtowers, but I didn’t think he would be so quick to bring a stranger in, let alone a fan who could leak the location.

“I’m not sure yet. If we can’t do it at the office because of late recordings, then it may have to be at someone’s place. I’ll let you know when it’s set, probably by tomorrow.”

“Works for me.” We spent the next hour talking about many things, from music to games to random memories. Chatting seemed to come easy for us. I really hadn’t anticipated we would talk that long, and neither did my stomach. During a pause in conversation, my stomach decided to become a dying whale. I hoped it wasn’t loud, but Smith definitely heard.

“Are you hungry?” he asked with a chuckle. “We can get food here if you want, or go somewhere else.”

“Anywhere you recommend?” I ask as my stomach states its opinion.

“Depends on what you want. There’s an Indian restaurant near here, a little walk away.”

“Sounds good,” I said. We got out of the booth, fortunately, I had dried mostly, and it had stopped raining. Smith had apparently walked from Yogtowers; once I unchained my bike he started walking in the direction of the restaurant.

It was a bit crowded at the restaurant, but we didn’t have to wait. It smelled wonderful inside, making my stomach growl again. I quickly ordered a chicken curry, Smith ordered a chicken tikka masala. The food didn’t take as long as I thought, we hadn’t talked more than 10 minutes when the waiter came to our table with 2 plates of food.

The meal was very tasty, and I’d definitely be returning to this restaurant. We walked out of the restaurant, the smell of rain in the air, it must have rained while we ate. “So we’ll jam Friday at 4, somewhere,” I confirmed as I unchained my bike.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know where hopefully by tomorrow. If you have any other questions, you can text me,” he answered. “See ya Friday then!”

“See ya,” I said as I got on my bike and started to head back home. I was within sight of my flat when it started to lightly rain, thankfully avoiding another unneeded shower. Everyone was back now, Rob and Kathy were cooking dinner in the kitchen, ironically, a curry of some sort.

“So how did your meeting go?” Mary asked me as I plopped on the couch next to her.

“Great, he wants to have a jam session with everyone Friday. It’s amazing to meet him in person, and on Friday I’ll get to meet the rest of the trio,” I said. I didn’t realize until I finished that I was beaming, but Kathy noticed from the kitchen.

“Did you on a date or something?” she asked.

“No, I’m going to possibly be recording music, so I met with the main guy just a bit ago,” I answered.

“Sounds fun,” she said, then went back to concentrating on her cooking, listening to Rob’s instruction.

I turned back towards Mary. “I didn't’ really realize how much we would have in common, we ended up spending an hour talking about all sorts of things while we waited for the rain to stop.”

Mary was one to be blunt, but in a nice way, so I wasn’t shocked when she asked, “So do you like him?”

“Well, yeah,” I started, “who wouldn’t? I mean right now I’m not looking for a relationship or anything, I need to focus on school. Plus I think it would be great to just become friends with all 3 of them, or even get to meet others in the office.”

“Are you gonna jam in the office?” she asked.

“I’m not sure yet, he said he needed to check with the recording schedule to make sure we wouldn’t be interrupting anything, so it may happen at someone’s flat. Either way, it’s amazing I get to even work with them,” I answered, beaming again. Before Mary could respond, Rob announced dinner was ready. I wasn’t very hungry considering I just ate, but the thought of more warm food was quite appealing after biking in the cold rain. I had a much smaller portion than everyone else, but no one seemed to notice as we talked and joked as usual.

I couldn’t wait for Friday, thankful and annoyed that I had a day to prepare. I decided not to tell any of my friends back in the US just yet, in case things didn’t work out.


	3. I Don't Want to go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea finally visits Yogtowers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know the location of Yogtowers, this is just my imagination making up a location. And sorry for the description of the music, I never realised how hard it would be to write about sounds. The content may also be older or newer as more memorable events happen. Also, Sorry for the large gap in posting, I’ve been super busy with school.

The past two days were probably the most I ever spent playing guitar since I started learning. My fingers were quite angry, but by Friday morning the callouses had started to reform. My room mates didn't seem to mind my playing, they rather enjoyed my near constant music coming from the living room or Mary and I’s room. I had to be ready to pull anything they may need. I knew there was always the possibility that they would ask something of me that I didn't know how to do, but I wanted to be as prepared as I could with my knowledge of theory.

Thursday, Smith texted me, letting me know we were going to be in Yogtowers, which added to my nervousness. I was surprised he let me know the location easily, and even offered to give me a ride if I needed it, which I accepted gratefully. While I was super pumped to actually visit Yogtowers, I was also very nervous. What if I made a bad impression on the other yogs in the office? What if Smith, Ross, or Trott didn't like my playing? I tried to stay positive as best as I could, but it was very hard with so much riding on this event.

My lectures seemed to go on for ages. When I finally got out of class at 12:30 for lunch I found myself racing on my bike to the flat. I didn't feel like eating, but I knew I had to force myself to eat something, otherwise I’d be adding a dying whale to the musical mix. Kathy came home around 30 minutes after me. It was nice to have the company, it kept my mind off of the jam session. Around 1:30 she left to go to her class, leaving me alone again. I was tempted to play guitar some more, but I decided to give my fingers and mind a rest.

I didn't feel particularly tired, but I ended up laying on my bed with a book I was reading. However, next thing I knew it was 3:30, and I heard my phone notify me of a text. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, so I hurriedly picked my phone up off the floor where I must have knocked it off, and looked at the text. It was from Smith, letting me know he was on his way. _Crap_ , I thought. _He’s on his way, and I look like I just woke up...well I did just wake up._ I spent the next 5 minutes making myself presentable, and put on a fresh shirt since I wrinkled up the one I just napped in. Thankfully I had already put my guitar in its case, so I grabbed it and sprinted down the hall to the elevator, which was luckily stopped at my floor already.

I didn't know what car to look for as I stepped out of the lobby of my building. There were several parked on the street like normal, but only one had a face, and shirt color, I recognized in it. As soon as he saw me he waved, and I walked over. “You can put your case in the back,” he said as he rolled the window down and motioned to the back seat. Once my guitar was safely in the back, I took a seat in the passenger seat. “How’s your day been?” he asked as he pulled away from the side of the road.

“Long,” I said, trying to contain my nerves. But an odd thing started to happen just like when I first met Smith. As we talked on the drive to Yogtowers, I felt less and less nervous, and more like I was hanging out with friends. The drive was not that long either, only 7 or 8 minutes. My nervousness tried to creep back, but as I followed Smith inside the sheer excitement of being at Yogtowers took over.

“Hope you don’t mind stairs, the lift’s a bit dodgy,” he said as he opened the door to the stairwell.  After four flights, he stopped at the first floor door. He led me down a hallway, passing some offices, one of which was occupied by Kim, though she wasn't recording. I wasn't sure which room we were going to be in, until he opened a door. I was in Hat Film’s office! Trott was on the grey sofa, keyboard sat on stacked boxes with his Mac next to him. Ross had a similar set up, with a mixer, mess of cables, and a Mac as well. There was a couple speakers on top of the sofa, connected to the mixer. Smith’s acoustic was propped against the side, a loving wear on the body from many years of strumming. “Guys, this is Andrea,” he said as he shut the door.

“Hi,” replied Trott, as he went back to fiddling with his keyboard. Ross stopped and looked up at me.

“Good day!” He didn't have to wait long for his desired result, as a wide grin spread across my face. I had to keep myself from fangirling all over the place.

“Aw Smith, why’d you have to go and get a hatter?” Trott whined. I knew it was sarcastic, but a small part of me was concerned. Before Smith could respond, I had a lucky break in comebacks.

“You’re the one to talk about getting to know fans,” I said, with the best eyebrow wiggle I could manage, but poor at best. Thankfully Smith backed me up with his characteristic gritted teeth comments.

“OOOH, she got you Scrott!”

This seemed to be a mini test to see how I’d get along with all the bantering, and I must have passed based on Trott’s smile and Ross “ooohs”. I felt much more relaxed than I had when I first stepped in the door. Smith grabbed Ross’s chair from his desk for me, then took his place on the edge of the couch. Trott grabbed a small notebook and started reading what I assume were notes.

“We have several topics for a song, though we aren't confined to solely the Minecraft inspired ones I have written here. I've seen some pretty good ideas in the comments we could tweak, or we can just come up with a new one,” he looked at his paper again. “Some sample topics are: A proper Hand of Truth anthem, a theme song for the amusement park on our hat pack server, and a song commemorating the destruction of Hat Corp by the Flux Buddies. This is just what I've come up with, do you guys have any other ideas?” he asked, looking around the room. I really didn't have many ideas that he hadn't already mentioned.

“What about a song about how you always win Trials?” Ross said, a smirk on his face despite the shade in the comment.

“What, you’re just a sorry loser,” Trott replied, completely straight faced, until he couldn't hold it any longer. Smith seemed to be thinking pretty hard, he didn't even seem to notice the banter going on.

“What about a legit song, something not inspired by our videos?” he asked, still partially in thought. We all looked at him, urging him to go on. “I've kinda had this tune in my head, but it doesn't feel right for any of the topics mentioned thus far.”

“Go on then, play it for us,” said Trott. Smith grabbed his acoustic, looked at the neck for a bit as he remembered the chords, and started playing his melody. It was quite melodic, with almost a folk feel, classic acoustic picking as his hands moved from chord to chord. It was also built around minor chords, using the major chords of the key to add light accent to the melody. He was right; something with this feel would not make a good comedic song at all. He continued to play; Trott's and my eyes were watching his left hand intently to figure out his chord pattern. I hadn't noticed till I looked to Ross that he had taken out his phone and started recording it. Suddenly, the song gained more body as Trott joined Smith with airy sounding chords. After a loop of that I joined, doing a similar and simple pick pattern to allow Smith to focus more on melody, which he jumped on gratefully. Then after fiddling for some time, Ross found some suitable percussion, a simple but powerful beat that drove the infant song.

“This is it guys,” Smith said, not stopping this creation. After a few more minutes he stopped, but motioned for us to continue but wrap up, creating the end of the song. Once we ended, we all sat and looked at each other in amazement at what we had just made. Then Smith suddenly smiled. “We should’ve gotten you sooner,” he said, looking at me. I was blushing before I could stop it, as if I actually could have stopped it. I wasn't fully responsible for this, in fact he came up with the melody, yet he seemed to be crediting his work to me. But before I could respond, there was sudden clapping from the door; we apparently had an audience. Kim and Sjin were stood next to each other with the door partially open. The trio turned to see who it was in unison, making me almost laugh.

“Why don’t you guys make music like that more often?” Kim asked. “And who’s this?” she said, gesturing to me.

“This is Andrea, she’s going to be helping us with the music,” Smith replied. I waved to Kim.

"Welcome to Yogtowers, Andrea. I'm Kim, and this is Sjin," she said, motioning to him as he waved next to her. "We're in the offices down the hall." Getting to meet all these people today was almost overwhelming. I was trying my best not to smile uncontrollably, though I still probably came off as quite smiley. Finally I couldn't hold back any longer.

"I really like watching both of your videos," I said, watching the realization that I was a fan don on their faces. I looked at Sjin, "You inspired me to start building things in Minecraft, and I haven't stopped since."

Sjin smiled and blushed a little. "I'm honored to be your inspiration."

"What games do you play?" Kim asked. My compliment to Sjin seemed to spark her curiosity.

"With me starting my master's recently, I haven't been able to play too much. When I do it's normally Minecraft or Cities: Skylines, something relaxing to me," I said. I decided not to mention that more often than not I watched Youtube in my spare time to wind down, the majority of it Yogscast content.

Before the conversation got any farther, Smith interrupted. "If you don't mind, Ross has somewhere to be at 6 so we need to work." I glanced at my phone, it was already 4:30.

"I understand," Kim replied. "I've got more editing to do anyway. Why don't we talk later, Andrea?"

"Sure," I said, trying but failing to sound too enthusiastic. In return she smiled and nodded before walking off after Sjin.

"Speaking of leaving, what time do you need to leave mate?" Smith asked Ross. He looked at his phone.

"My train leaves at 6, so I need to leave here around 5:30," Ross answered.

“We should get somewhere in an hour then. So everyone seemed to like that...thing we just made,” he paused, looking at all of us for confirmation. “I think we could go somewhere with it."

"You sure mate? I mean the viewers are gonna want a funny song," Trott said.

"I think it's worth a try. We can't be completely dictated by the viewers," I answered, breaking my silence. Everyone looked at me, realizing I represented the viewers right now. "Yeah, there'll be some who won't like it, but that's always gonna happen." I focused my gaze on Smith, "if you want to develop this into a song, you should. Follow your heart."

Smith smiled, looking reassured about his idea. "Andrea is a viewer, so if she'd like this then I think it's safe to assume there will be some who will as well." He looked at Trott and Ross for confirmation, both nodding their agreement. "Well then, let's get to work!"

We spent the next hour working. The song was basically done musically; Smith wrote the structure he used and tailored it to 4 minutes, Ross worked dynamics and figured out where he wanted to build percussion, and Trott organized the chords of the song, ready to be matched to lyrics. I watched them work for a time, helping Smith with background chords while he roughly tabbed out his pick pattern. After we finished we still had about 20 minutes. "Do we want to start lyrics?" I asked. I wasn't sure who was going to write them, or if it was going to be a group effort.

"We need a theme," Smith answered. "It's not a very joyful song, but I don't want it to be too dark either." For a few minutes we all just sat, thinking hard for a topic that fit the song. Finally, Ross broke the silence.

"I don't want to go home," he said. At first I couldn't tell if that was a comment about him leaving soon for his train. "It should start like that. The internet community is rife with people escaping their lives, why not make it about that?" We all nodded, liking this theme.

"I don't want to go home, don't wanna go back there. Life has no color, all the walls are bare," Smith added, chin propped up on his hands as he stared blankly at the wall while thinking. Soon, we had a verse done.

_I don't want to go home_

_Don't wanna go back there._

_Life has no color,_

_All the walls are bare._

_Please don't leave me,_

_Don't leave me here alone._

_I just wanted a friend,_

_But I should've known._

It seemed a bit dark, but I had the feeling it was going to have a good resolution by the time we were done. Before we could continue, Ross had to leave to get his train. As he left the room, he turned around in the doorway to no one in particular. "That song was not inspired by anything," he said with a meek smile on his face, "I actually do want to go home."

"Don't miss us too much," Trott answered, fiddling with his laptop.

"See you guys next week, and it was nice to meet you Andrea," he replied with a little wave.

We didn't work for too long, for two reasons. First, we didn't know how to continue, and second, we didn't want to leave Ross out of the lyric making. He seemed to have a direction already whether he realized it or not, coming up with most of the verse besides Smith's part. We helped Trott load up his equipment in his car, leaving me and Smith. "Well, I need to go edit some stuff I was supposed to do earlier." He leaned in and covered his mouth in mock secrecy, "don't let Trott know I slacked off, he'd shoot me on the spot," he whispered with a smirk. "Why don't you go talk to Kim? Looks like she's still here," he said, looking at a car in the parking lot. "When you're ready to leave, just let me know."

Once we got back to the second floor, I went to Kim's office. Her door was open, but she was busy editing something on her computer, so I knocked lightly to not barge in.

“Oh, hey Andrea, I'm almost done, just let me get this last bit….there, now it can render out.” She turned and got out of her chair; I didn't quite realize how short she was even compared to Sjin in the doorway. “Why don’t we go to the common room, then we can both sit in not a stuffy office.”

I followed her down the hallway past more offices and Hat Films’ room; only Simon was in the common room, on a computer in the corner playing something which I couldn't tell from the entry way. She plopped on the couch, but clearly left room for me so I followed suit. I didn't realize how tired I was until I sunk into the couch.

“So are you studying at University of Bristol?” Kim asked.

“Yeah, Master’s in psychology,” I answered.

“How far are you going to study? Gonna go all the way to a doctorate?”

“Maybe, I mean if I want to work for a university I definitely need to.”

The conversation took various twists and turns. We learned a lot about each other, from favorite foods to hobbies to life goals. As the conversation started to wind down, Kim decided to go check if her video was done rendering so she could upload it. I followed her to her office, still talking occasionally, when Smith came out of their office. “I'm almost done, just a few more minutes of render left, then we can leave.” I looked at my phone; it was about 7:30. “You guys have a nice chat?” he asked.

“Yeah, did you know that Andrea is quite the nerd? She fits right in with us, knows a little bit of everything it seems,” Kim answered. I blushed, and looked at a shelf to the right of the door, away from Smith who was smiling. I found it odd that she specifically chose to describe me that way, though Smith didn't seem to mind.

“So I've learned,” he said. “She’s brilliant with music.” All these compliments were making me go tomato red in the face, which I desperately tried to hide. However, Kim seemed to notice my mild discomfort.

“I keep forgetting that you’re a fan, this must seem so surreal to you,” she said. I relaxed a bit, knowing that she was trying to be courteous.

“Yeah, not everyday do you get to meet people you've watched on Youtube for years. I mean being here in England in the first place is surreal enough, let alone today.” I still couldn't quite wrap my head around what all I got to do today. Things like this only happened in my head.

Once Smith’s video finished rendering, we left Yogtowers. The relatively short drive was filled with intriguing conversation. Each time we talked we connected even more; I felt like I’d known Smith for much longer than just a few days. As we neared my flat, I remembered Rob was cooking tonight, so I would have something tasty to come home to.

“Here we are. I’ll let you know when we’ll have another session. I think Ross is due back sometime Monday, so it probably won’t happen till Tuesday,” he said as he pulled up and parked.

“Sounds good. I had a great time today, I haven’t been able to jam like that in a few months, forgot how much I missed it,” I said. I hadn't realized that we were staring at each other, not sure if tiredness or simple comfortableness in his company was the cause. There was no awkward glance away. Smith smiled after a while, making me laugh for some reason which made him laugh. My stomach interrupting seemed to be my body’s way of changing the subject. “Well I'm gonna go eat food now, see ya Tuesday then!”

“Till then, Andrea,” he said as I grabbed my guitar from the back seat. I shut the door and started walking to my flat, waving as he drove off. I stepped in the lobby just as the elevator shut, so I patiently waited for it to come back.

Something about the way he said my name a few moments ago just about sent shivers down my spine. It didn't seem like he was trying to be flirty or anything, though to a complete stranger he may seem that way sometimes. However, the way he said it then did sound slightly different than the rest. _I'm just making it up_ , I thought to myself as I stepped in the elevator, but as I neared my floor, another thought occurred. He did seem to smile a lot at me, but I couldn't tell if it was simply friendly or something more. _If he wants something, he can initiate_ , I decided. Perhaps there was some subtle nuance in British culture I was missing, but he seemed more than capable of communicating his opinions.

As I stepped onto my floor, the smell of Rob’s dinner drew me back to reality. _I need to focus on school anyway_ , I thought. My stomach voiced its opinion as well. _And food_.

 

 


	4. Texting in Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smith texts Andrea to discuss details about the next jam session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to write this chapter, I kinda hit a writer's block and then got busy with school and my other [ story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3969583). I've completed the song, so I can now proceed to write them developing it. I do post "progress reports" occasionally on my [tumblr](http://Adapted-Batteries.tumblr.com) and for this story, since I won't update it on a schedule like "A Chance for Discovery", it will let you know when the next chapter is almost finished.
> 
> Also I would greatly appreciate feedback on both of my stories. Leave a comment or an ask on my tumblr.

Normally I wasn't one to get music stuck in my head, but I couldn't get Smith singing Ross's lyrics out of my head. Not that I was trying all that hard to get it out, I mean let's face it: Smith has an amazing voice I could listen to for hours on end. But when it came to about 2am Monday morning, I was ever so slightly annoyed. At least I didn't have an 8 am class, but 9:30am didn't seem all that much better. I shouldn't have recorded him at the jam session, though at the time I recorded him so I could mess around with it over the weekend. Finally exasperated, I stuck in my earbuds and selected my sleep playlist from my phone, in hopes to let me drift off to sleep.

 ****  


At 8:30am my alarm went off, rousing me from deep sleep. Mary was already up and gone, her class starting right now. I went about my normal morning routine, eating breakfast, getting ready, laying on my bed on the internet for a while. Smith was no longer in my head, but it was still weird to see tweets from the yogs and realize I was working with them. As I scrolled through my Youtube subscriptions, something inside of me wondered if I should stop watching their videos. The thought never really crossed my mind until now; was it weird to watch a coworker’s videos?

As I cycled to class, I continued to ponder my dilema. I enjoyed their content, plus it allowed me to “research” their a capella musical skills in most videos. A fuzzy memory of one of Kim’s videos made me think she watched other yogs as well, but I couldn’t tell if I was just making it up. As I settled into my seat in the lecture hall, my answer asserted itself. There was nothing weird about it; it was the same as watching a friend’s videos, or looking at their social medias.

 

About an hour into my class, my phone buzzed. Thankfully the professor was talking, as my phone vibrated obnoxiously loud it seemed. Normally I kept it on silent, but I must have forgotten to change it when in my pensive state earlier that morning. I checked my phone to see who it was while the professor droned on, a little smile tried to creep on my face when I saw “Alex Smith” on the lock screen. The preview of the message didn’t have any information in it, so I unlocked my phone and read his message.

 

> _Hope you had a good weekend. Ross’s train won’t be back till the afternoon, and I bet he’s gonna want to rest after it. Trott and I were thinking of doing some more work after recording tomorrow, say around 3 or 4, whichever works for you._

I glanced up to see the professor still on the same slide, so I decided to reply. Tomorrow, I had a “lab” of sorts most of the day, working with some professors on a study from 8:30am to 3pm with lunch squeezed somewhere in the middle. I’d be tired, but I could stop on my way to yogtowers and get some food.

 

 

> _4 works well for me._

The professor moved on to the next slide, so I started to take notes again. I felt the buzz of my phone, but ignored it while I was still writing. After a few more minutes, the professor got side tracked with a story again so I looked at my phone.

 

> _Sounds good then. Do you need a ride or anything?_

I checked the forecast for tomorrow, and seeing it to be mostly rain, I decided a ride would be much more preferable than biking with a guitar on my back in the rain.

 

> _That would be great, thanks. Though I hope you don’t mind stopping for some food on the way back to yogtowers, cuz I’m gonna be hungry after my lab/study._

He took longer to respond this time, my class was almost done when my phone buzzed again.

 

 

> _Can’t forget to feed the hungry scientist! Am I getting you from your flat?_

By now I was packing up my stuff, getting ready to head back to my flat for lunch and study time.

 

 

> _Yeah. I’ll have to get my guitar. I get done around 3._

It started to rain as I unchained my bike from the rack, so I hurried back to my flat. I could have checked my phone at some crosswalks as I waited for the traffic signal, but I decided to keep my phone dry in my bag rather than risk the rain hurting it. Once I was inside and bike stored, I looked at my phone.

 

 

> _How does 3:40 sound?_

I figured 40 minutes would give me enough time to get back to my flat to get my guitar. I could tell him later and have time to eat too, but I knew I probably wouldn’t want to muster up effort to make a good meal, nor have the time to cook it. Once I changed into some dry clothes and started a cup of tea, I answered his text.

 

 

> _That works fine._

I wanted to keep talking, though I knew he probably had work he needed to do and I had no clue what else to say. I didn't want to seem intrusive, so I left it at that and started to work on an essay. However, a few minutes later my phone buzzed on my desk.

 

> _Ross says he finished the song mostly, a story a family member told him inspired him. He wanted to keep it a surprise for all of us I guess, cuz he didn't tell me anything else._

I was definitely curious where Ross was taking the song. It was certainly a change from their funny parodies they had done previously.

 

> _I can't wait to hear it. I hope it has a happy ending, I don't think I could do a completely dark song._

I thought it was important that he knew my stance on what music I created; I didn't want to make depressing music. However, I also wanted to know how he felt about it. I knew he had been in a folk band in the past, the Tin Box Boys. I'd listened to him sing the bluegrass tunes more than once, and I knew some folk music had some hidden depressing themes covered up by major chords and upbeat tempos.

 

> _Me either, I was surprised I felt so comfortable with the chord progression we made. Ross assures me that it has a happy ending._

Without realizing, a small wave of relief went through me. I guess some part of me was really concerned, though another part had total faith in Ross from the beginning. Before I could reply, another message came in.

 

> _So what are you up to? Shouldn't you be studying?_

I smiled at that; I could hear the Smith saltiness in the question. Though if he was asking that, it meant he probably wasn't working on whatever he was supposed to be doing. I was at least three more sentences into my essay now. I decided to return his snarkiness.

 

> _Hey, I am working on an essay...I may not have gotten too far but I'm at least working. What are you doing? Shouldn't you be editing?_

It didn't take long for him to respond.

 

> _Look at you being all productive. I should be, but I'm "taking a break."_

Once I finished reading it another text came in from him.

 

> _Ok Trott's yelling at me to be productive, so I'm gonna work now. Talk to you later._

I knew he didn't need to be further distracted, but I couldn’t resist a bit more sass.

 

> _What, no hip abbreviations? No g2g, ttyl, ttfn?_

He must not have been too keen to get right back to work, he responded quickly again.

 

> _I honestly hate to use them. Sorry I'm not hip enough for you._

I was quite happy to hear that; I'd grown up being the kid that never used text talk, and I'd often write over multiple messages what could be condensed in one for the sake of whole words and sentences.

 

> _Don't worry, I hate them too. Now get off your phone and get to work, I don't want Trott yelling at me too._

Quite frankly I needed to get to work too, that essay wasn't gonna write itself. I decided not to respond to what he sent next, though it was closing enough it didn't need a response.

 

> _*rolls eyes* fiiiinnne. Talk to you later then. (Actual later, not a few minutes.)_

I did manage to finish the essay after a few hours. I rewarded myself with some jaffa cakes and a protein bar before taking advantage of the break in rain to go to the gym and exercise a bit. Though I wouldn't admit it to myself at the time, Smith definitely gave me more motivation to get back into shape.

 


	5. Magic Music Making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea and the Hats create a song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, I finally wrote the next chapter!
> 
> So as I wrote this chapter, I realized that I did two half days for research in the original schedule, but now I realize a whole day would be much better and more realistic for research, so I changed it. I went back and edited the previous chapters for continuity errors,if you end up rereading it. Also I imagined this happening once Andrea settled into her schedule, so when she first calls smith is about a month into the school year.
> 
> Want to hear what the song actually sounds like? I actually made a preview of sorts and put it on my [ tumblr](http://adapted-batteries.tumblr.com/post/124761145797/this-a-little-preview-of-the-song-i-dont-want-to).

Even though they were early, lab days were my favorite.  Being able to actually work in my field, on the road to helping people improve their lives. Our project wasn’t exactly groundbreaking, but I still enjoyed what we were studying. In a jist, the project was based around learning how people approached solving a custom Portal puzzle and see how results correlated. Working with the game development students, we had them build a level that had 4 different solutions to the problem, all equally subtle, and see which the subjects chose to use. There were some variables to worry about, especially as we tested college age and younger. Most of these subjects knew of portal, or more often than not, had played one or both of the games, so their completion times were skewed because they were already familiar with controls and concepts. This also meant we had to take into account the extra time people unfamiliar with the game or gaming in general took to acclimating to the controls, the longer times mostly common in the older demographics we tested. Overall, it was a pretty sound experiment, not too intense, but could easily reveal interesting information.

We wanted to get a very large data pool for this, for accuracy, so there was going to be a lot of testing. At any given time, there were three tests going on in our little chunk of labs. Most of the slots before 10 am were filled with senior citizens and adults squeezing it in before their job. My favorite subjects were mostly senior citizens, getting a giggle when they talked to the game as if it would help. Despite their old age, some were pretty quick at figuring out the puzzle, once they got moving. After 10, a fair amount of college students and older would test, with some local sixth form and secondary school students coming on the psychology teacher’s free period. Mrs. Allen was quite interested in our project when she heard about it, and thus became our main source of teenagers by spreading information about our project to other schools in the area. I think she wanted to be a researcher as I was right now, but she always talked about her students with pride, so she went into teaching.

When it neared normal lunch time, I had already eaten. We staggered lunch breaks, because 12-2 pm was when we got most of the office and business adults who tested during their lunch breaks. This was our most busy time, since it was the only time we got this group of citizens for testing. We could get about 40 people an hour on the 3 machines, since not everyone took the average 5 minutes to complete the puzzle. It was very busy, making sure people filled out the form for basic background information while they waited, and ushering the next person into the room as soon as the previous person finished. Once 2pm rolled around, the rush dissipated, changing back into college students and teenagers once again. The study did go on past 3pm, but there weren’t as many subjects as the morning, so the professors traded off which grad students had to work which session. I generally opted for the morning sessions because I liked having the evenings to myself, or in today’s case, with Hat Films.

Once it was 3pm, I signed out with my supervising professor, Dr. Lawson. “See you tomorrow, Andrea,” he said as I hurried out, not letting him chat about tomorrow’s lecture with me as he often did. Normally it was a 20 minute bike ride home with traffic, so I tried my best to leg it and shorten the time, but as per usual, I got back to my flat at 3:22, precisely 20 minutes after I had left. Even if it was October, I had made myself sweat while biking, so I jumped in the shower. I wanted to wash my hair, but I simply didn’t have time. After I cleaned up and changed, it was already 3:35 so I laid on my bed after packing my guitar until Smith texted me he was here.

When I stepped outside, it had started to rain softly, making me even more thankful that smith was giving me a ride. Once I got my guitar in the back and sat in the front passenger seat, Smith was already asking where I wanted to go. “The guys aren’t really picky, so it’s totally up to you,” he started. Then he leaned towards me and mockingly whispered as if it was a scandal, “but between me and you, I’m sick of McDonald’s.” Personally I tried to avoid McDonald’s here as much as I did in the US, and so far I’d been doing well, so I had no intention of eating there.

“I was kind of thinking noodles sounded good, there’s a shop in Cabot Circus that I visit sometimes,” I replied, quickly pulling up the location on my phone and showing him. He looked at it for a few seconds as he looked at the route google maps gave me, before answering.

“That sounds good to me, though Ross doesn’t normally go for spicy food. What’s nearby?” he asked as he started to pull out into the street. I quickly procured a list of places in Cabot Circus, including McDonald’s, and listed them off to Smith as he drove. “Hmmm, I have a feeling he’s tired of Micky D’s, and subsequently Burger King,” he started, then grabbed his phone out of his pocket with one hand as he drove. “Text him and see what he wants from Subway. Code is 8928,” he said, handing me his phone. As I typed in the code, which I was surprised he even gave to me in the first place, I realized what it most likely spelled.

“Twat?” I asked as I proceed to his messages and queried Ross on his food choice.

“I had to change it from Trott getting in my phone, so I figured I’d do something so blatantly obvious that he wouldn’t get it,” he answered with a smirk.

“How long has it lasted?” I asked as I locked the phone while I waited on Ross’s reply.

“Oh, about two weeks, so I’d say it’s working pretty well,” he said. A few seconds later his phone buzzed in my hand, Ross’s order on the screen. “I think Trott’s been to that noodle place before, you could ask him if he wants that or Subway. He’ll probably opt for the noodles.” Trott was even quicker to respond, asking for the sweet chili chicken on rice.

“Well, I’ve got everyone’s order but your’s, what do you want?” I asked as we neared the shops.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he answered as he pulled into temporary parking. He handed me some money before getting out. “I’ll get Ross’s, you get the rest.”

I looked at the sign in front of us, “Don’t be longer than 15 minutes,” I chided playfully.

“I’ll try my best,” he said with a laugh, then we left the car park for the food.

We easily made the 15 minute limit, and were back on the road to Yogtowers before 4 pm. I had a pile of hot food on my lap, and I could smell my own noodles, making my mouth water. Fortunately the ride was short, and we were parked again.

The rain picked up a bit more as Smith turned the car off. “I’ll get your guitar, go ahead and get inside,” he said, as if he was making a game plan. Making sure my keys were in my pocket, phone secured, and had a good grip on the bag, I took a deep breath for some reason and opened the door, quickly shutting it and sprinting to the door. I didn’t expect Smith to be right on my heels, but somehow he was. I found out that the hard way as I stopped in the doorway to dry off my shoes, when Smith almost ran into me. Well by almost, he did actually run into me, but he stopped himself and involuntarily grabbed me with his left hand to keep me from making a floor sandwich with the food. “Woah, sorry, are you ok?” he asked, concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I shouldn’t have stopped in the doorway,” I answered. Only after I said this did I realize his hand was still around my waist, as I started to turn around. _Well, I suppose he is making a move_ , I thought. Once I made eye contact with him, he realized the situation, and quickly pulled his arm away.

“Sorry,” he said again, with a nervous chuckle, the hand that was around my waist automatically finding its way to the back of his neck. He then realized the door was still open, and shut it. I couldn’t help but smile at his awkwardness as I turned back around to head up the stairs. I hoped for his sake the blush on his face had dissipated by the time we made it to the Hat’s room. Either it had, or Ross and Trott were too hungry to notice. As soon as I stepped in the doorway they sprang up from their desks.

“I’m starving, that smells amazing,” Trott said as I sat the bag of food on Ross’s desk. His sandwich was on top, so I handed it to him, then distributed the rest of the food and utensils to Trott and Smith.

“Anyone need drinks?” Smith asked, heading back out the door. Both Trott and Ross already had drinks on their desks. “I’m going to get some tea, what about you, Andrea?”

“That’d be great,” I responded. With a nod and a smile, he left the room for the kitchen. I figured I could practice some harmony with Smith, once we placed Ross’s lyrics in the song, so tea would be better for my throat. Remembering my hunger, I grabbed my box of curry chicken noodles and sat on the couch. By the time Smith came back with two mugs, I had already eaten a fourth of my meal.

“You really weren’t joking about being hungry, were you,” he said with a laugh as he sat the mugs down on a box next to me. I looked up at him just after I shoveled food into my mouth, nodding instead of spitting food everywhere. I figured he’d go sit at his desk like the others had, but instead he plopped down on the couch on the left side of the box. We weren’t sitting that close, Trott’s keyboard was in between us, but it was pretty obvious now that he was trying.

I looked at the mug he put closest to me, seeing it was brewed enough, so I sat my noodles down to take a sip. I figured he would just make me whatever he was having, but once I brought the mug to my face, I could tell it wasn’t the same tea. His looked like green tea now I saw the difference, the light brown of the mug coloring it. Mine was definitely earl grey, I could smell the citrus before I even took a sip. I felt eyes on me as I took a sip, knowing they were Smith’s; as soon as I looked up he was smiling and winked. However as soon as he did that he seemed self-conscious and mumbled, “It’s not too hard to remember your favorite tea.”

“Thanks,” was all I could manage, which made me feel self-conscious, but before I could regret it, I winked back. When the signal registered in his head, he seemed to relax a bit, no longer the nervous mess I’d seen twice today when he thought he went too far. Quickly our hunger overruled any nervousness as we slurped noodles, intermixed with jokes and comments. Once everyone had finished their food, we started setting up the makeshift music couch. Trott was pretty much done, only needed to stack some boxes and plug his macbook in. Ross ended up pulling a little table over and using his office chair, leaving Smith and I to flank Trott on the couch.

Ross pulled out his phone, flicking through pages until he found his lyrics. “So my cousin Winston was telling me a story, one of those where it ends up being the backstory to someone you’ve known for years. Apparently, he met his best friend years ago at a café, after Wesley had ran away from home. He felt bad for the lad, and decided to let him stay at his place for the night. They ended up becoming really good friends and finished uni together. I’d met him before at some family gatherings, but I never knew Winston took him under his wing like that,” he paused, looking back down at the lyrics. “Now that you have the backstory, here’s what I ended up writing. The first verse I wrote on the train, the rest came from Winston’s story.” Ross started to recite his verses as if he was reading a poem.

_I don’t want to go home,_

_don’t wanna go back there._

_Life has no color,_

_all the walls are bare._

_Please don’t leave me,_

_don’t leave me here alone._

_I just wanted a friend,_

_but I should’ve known._

 

_Let me live in the shadows,_

_in these swirls of blue._

_I can be anything here,_

_with no need to be true._

_But why am I not happy,_

_in the anonymity?_

_I need someone real,_

_someone I can see._

 

_And one day you said,_

_“Can I buy you a drink?”_

_As I sat in the café,_

_hidden away from everything._

_You were different,_

_you actually cared._

_You talked and you listened,_

_But you never stared._

He paused his reciting to give us some more information. “Wesley at the time had a huge bruise on the side of his face, where his father had hit him, which was why he ran away. At the time, he was nineteen, but he couldn’t afford to pay for housing. He ended up staying with my cousin for the rest of uni. Also I think after this verse, I’d repeat the first one that we wrote last week.” Then, as if he hadn’t stopped, he continued reciting.

_The sun had gone down,_

_the shop soon to close._

_You got up to leave, and_

_I didn’t want to impose_

_that I had nowhere to go._

_But God must have told you_

_about my despair._

_And you asked if I needed_

_a place to be safe._

 

_I stopped thinking and said yes,_

_my mourning erased._

_For you took my burdens_

_to some other place._

_In your company I healed,_

_my sadness dissipated._

_I now have a friend,_

_One I hadn’t anticipated._

 

_My cries of the past are over,_

_with you by my side I can make it._

_My home is no longer dreaded,_

_now that you helped me replace it._

He looked at us as he finished, waiting for feedback, but we were all quiet in stunned silence. “Well, how did you guys like it?” he finally asked, trying to prod a response out of us. Smith was the first to respond.

“Mate, that was amazing,” he remarked, which both Trott and I followed with various words of agreement. Ross looked ever so slightly surprised that his work had impacted us like it did.

“Thanks,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in sudden shyness. “I was thinking about fixing the end of the fourth verse, well technically third if the first verse we wrote is now the chorus. I couldn’t think of a better way to rhyme despair or safe, without losing the meaning,” Ross stated, looking to us for help.

After quickly pulling up rhymezone.com, I looked at the words that rhymed with despair. I saw spare, which started a train of thought. _Spare, spare bed. How can I reword that last line? Hmm...And you said you had a bed to spare?_ Once I formulated a working phrase, I voiced my solution to Ross. “What if you made the last two lines, ‘You said you had a bed to spare?’ It works rhythm wise, and rhymes.” Ross thought it over, changing the line on his phone.

“Yeah, yeah that works well. Thanks, Andrea.” He looked at the other two next to me. “You guys have any other suggestions? Any parts that sounded weird, or didn’t flow right?” he asked, waiting for their comments.

“I think everything sounded fine, that three line sentence in the third verse may take a bit of work to get the rhythm right, but that shouldn’t be too hard,” Smith said, already grabbing his guitar next to him to start working on the song. Trott started playing the chords, starting with an A minor, but he seemed to have forgotten the progression because he jumped to E minor, then made a confused face. “Next chord is D minor mate,” Smith helped, playing the change so he could hear it. “Ross, why don’t you print off the lyrics so we can look at them while we figure stuff out?” Smith asked as he started to find that melody he made last jam session.

“Sure,” Ross answered, rolling back to his desk to type. “How many copies do we need? Four?” he asked.

“Four’s good,” Smith replied, turning his head from Ross to me, he asked, “Andrea, you can do harmony, right?”

“Yup, you want upper or lower?” I asked. In the video I had shown him, I was doing lower harmony, but my friend who was leading was a soprano, so he didn’t know how low I could actually go, nor that my range was tenor.

“Um, it’s kinda low, can you do lower harmony on it?” he asked, curiosity in his voice.

“Probably, yes. It’s been awhile since I improv-harmonized, why don’t you sing the chorus by yourself once, then I’ll join in the next?” I suggested, so I could get my bearings before I messed up in front of them.

“Sure, let me get the lyrics from Ross,” he said, waiting on the printer to start before he got up. Once he remembered what he had created before, he started to play the verse by himself, with Trott playing his keyboard to relearn the rhythm. As he got ready to start the next pass, he looked over to me and nodded. I took a deep breath, and started to harmonize with him. It was a little shaky the first two lines, but once I heard the harmony click into place, it flowed easily from me. Smith repeated the chorus one more time to get the first to lines, letting me lock the harmony.

“You both sound great,” Ross complimented, now back at his makeshift music desk. Smith glanced over to me, a sparkle in his eyes.

“It sure didn’t sound like it had been awhile that second pass,” Smith remarked, a somewhat mischievous smile on his face. Of course, my shyness kicked in and made me blush.

“Thanks, I guess I wasn’t as rusty as I thought,” I responded, finally breaking my gaze from Smith and looking down at the lyrics on the paper in my hand. Ross had typed them up in poem fashion, which made it a lot easier to see the rhythm of the song. I could already hear it in my head. Trott had pulled out the chord progression he had made last time for reference.

“Why don’t we do a rough run, just see what happens?” Smith suggested, so we could get the ball rolling. After various “sure”, “ok”, and “sounds good”, Smith asked if I would play with him, so he could drop if he need to while figuring out lyrics. I was fine with that, though I’d have to concentrate pretty hard to harmonize and play at the same time.

Smith had a knack for singing new lyrics on the spot. It seemed to flow out of him as if he had played it for months; it was truly a sight to behold. In the second verse, where Ross’s cousin meets his friend, Smith suggested that the chords lighten, using major chords with minor accents, to denote the change in mood. By the time we got to the end of our first run through, we all knew this was how the song was going to be. All that needed to be done was tweaking the instrumentals and better rhythm work on some lyrics. I was quite surprised at how easily the song came together, how we seemed to create the perfect song-making team.

After another run through, Smith, Trott, and Ross recorded rough instrumentals while we played. Smith wanted to catch Sam before he left so we could record vocals, and work from there. I focused more on harmony than playing while they recorded since I wasn’t being recorded, making sure I nailed down where I wanted the harmonies throughout the song. Once Trott compiled and balanced the tracks, which he did within minutes, we all went down to the audio room, catching Sam just as he was about to leave. “Hey Sam, do you think you could do a quick recording for us? We want to get a runthrough of the main and harmony,” Smith said, holding up the flash drive that had the instrumentals.

“Sure,” Sam replied, taking the flash drive. He powered back on the computer and started the recording program, loading the mp3 file. “Let’s do main vocals first, go ahead and get into the ‘booth’,” he said, motioning to the closet in front of him. Smith went in, taking the paper he had scrawled on with notes for lyrics with him. Sam turned on a speaker for the rest of us, while he put on headphones. Once Smith was comfortable, he gave Sam a thumbs up through the window, and Sam started recording.

After stopping twice mid song, and two full run throughs, Smith finally got a satisfying take. Now it was my turn, and I was ever so slightly nervous. Smith realized he hadn’t introduced me to Sam, so before shoving me into the booth, he announced, “This is Andrea, she’s going to do lower harmony for most of the song.” Sam smiled at me and nodded, and I went into the closet, lyrics in hand. The headphones were still warm from Smith’s head as I put them on, deciding to leave one ear slightly uncovered so I could hear myself. I gave Sam a thumbs up through the glass, glancing at the trio behind him. Ross was vlogging apparently, I hadn’t noticed the camera in his hand earlier, though I was probably concentrating way too much on Smith’s voice to notice. They were definitely talking, but I couldn’t hear a word, so I just waved at the camera as the music started, turning my head back to the mic and my lyric sheet.

I felt like a try hard for not taking as many tries as Smith had. Halfway through my first try my voice cracked, but that was fixed easily by some water, and my second take was satisfying enough from the guys, giving me a shower of compliments as I stepped out of the closet. I personally wanted to do it another time, but Smith assured me I sounded great, so we left it at that. Sam quickly stuck the two tracks together, and put the file on the flash drive before handing it back to Trott. “Thanks Sam,” Smith said as we made our way back to the Hat’s office. Once we settled back in, Trott added the vocals to the instrumental recording, and hooked his macbook up to some speakers so we could all listen.

As I listened to the recording, I realized how well Smith and my voice combined. No wonder they were looking at me in amazement when I got out of the booth/closet. Without any effects we sounded professional. When the song finished, everyone was silent. I had been watching the wave patterns on Trott’s laptop next to me throughout the song, so I looked up to Smith on the other side of him. His eyes seemed to be a mix of emotions, amazement, joyful, almost as if he was reminiscing of something, but most prominently they were looking at me. He must have noticed how shocked I was at the recording, and smiled. “Well, I think we definitely figured out vocals,” Smith said, winking at me once again. Perhaps by now he realized I automatically smiled anytime he did that. Out of comfort I had picked up my guitar when we got back in the room, so now with it in my lap I just started playing absentmindedly. Trott seemed to take this as some signal, and started fiddling with his laptop.

“Do we want to record melodic guitar over it?” he asked the group, looking at all of us. I realized he asked because I was playing, so I stopped.

“Are you up for it, Andrea?” Smith asked, nodding at my guitar.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” I stuttered, suddenly nervous from being put on the spot.

“After we record that, I want to layer in some bass,” Ross added, either not noticing my nerves or ignoring them. I mentally thanked him for which ever reason it was, for getting back on the creative task helped ease my nerves. Smith passed me the quarter-inch to usb cable he used before, and I played random melodic notes while Trott balanced my guitar.

“Ok, I’m all set, you ready?” he asked me. Before my brain could contemplate it, I responded with a quick nod. Just like in the studio, the music started, and I focused myself back into the zone of playing. I did a little bit of a complex riff for an intro of sorts, then dropped the complexity through the song, picking it back up in empty parts. It was as if I already had what I wanted to do in my head, even if I was making it up on the spot, something I hadn’t felt for years since I recorded the song I showed Smith back at the café. As I came to the end of the song, I noticed Ross had the camera back out. I suddenly blushed with the surprise recording, but quickly acted semi professional for the camera, ignoring the color of my face.

“Mate that was amazing,” Smith said from a reclined position on the couch.  Ross had apparently not recorded the comment, I heard him set the camera down as he got ready to do the bass for the song.

“Thanks,” I said, wishing I had a better response for all the compliments. Trott was busy working on the song, fixing the minute delay that came from listening to through the speakers.

“Ok Ross, I’m ready to get the bass,” Trott said, taking the headphone off of his ears. He did the bass in one go as I did the melodic guitar; granted, bass wasn’t as complicated, but he did add some runs in it, giving the song that much more volume. Once he fixed the delay again for Ross, Trott played the updated work for us. It sounded quite good, though some balancing needed to be done. Apparently our music making had attracted some audience, Kim, Sjin, and Hannah were at the door, and applauded when the song concluded. We all looked to the door at the same time, which made Kim giggle a bit before talking.

“That was great guys, how long have you been working on that?” she asked. Smith looked at his phone, and did some math in his head.

“Including the first session last week, we’ve been working on it for three and a half hours,” he stated.

“Only three hours?” Hannah rhetorically asked. I felt the same as she did; I didn’t realize it was only 6:30pm. Apparently, time flies when you make music with the Hats. “It sounds like you spent bloody ages on it. Good job guys.” And with that, Hannah ducked away, leaving Kim and Sjin in the doorway. Smith continued the conversation anyway.

“I think Andrea here has made the difference,” he said, turning to look at me. I was more of a catalyst I thought than anything, perhaps giving the trio a reason to focus on their task more than if they were alone. His statement left an awkward silence that no one filled until Kim spoke up.

“Well keep up the good work guys, you’re doing great,” she said. Sjin chimed in with a “yeah”, and they both left back to their offices.

“I think I’m gonna re-record the keys,” Trott said, trying to fill the stifling silence.

“Sounds good, I’m gonna finish editing,” Ross said, rolling back to his desk to work. Trott already put on headphones and disconnected the speakers, leaving Smith and I with nothing to do.

“You wanna go get some more tea?” Smith asked, picking up his empty mug.

“Sure,” I replied. Who wouldn’t want more tea?

We made our way to the kitchen, passing by some lit and unlit offices. It was 6:30, but I was gonna stay as long as they needed me. No one was in the kitchen, either. Smith filled up the kettle again and turned it on, then started looking in the cupboard. “Do you want the same tea, or something different?” he asked. I followed him over to look at the selection. There was regular breakfast, earl grey, green, and chamomile teas. I decided to change it up, and asked for green tea. Once the kettle started to boil he poured water in the two mugs. I had sat down at the small table in the room, so Smith brought the drinks over. “Well I’d say today was pretty productive,” he said, trying to start conversation.

“I’d say, it’s probably the quickest I've ever produced a pretty good sounding song,” I replied. We talked for quite awhile about different things, but he never brought up the reason for all the winks and excess eye contact like I assumed he would. After a bit we went back to the room to finish up, mostly it was just post work Trott would do now to make everything go from good to great. No one was sure about what type of video they wanted to do yet. We started to make a script for it, which turned into mostly figuring how how they wanted to film the interaction in the café.

“But we don’t want the whole video to be just that,” Trott said, looking that the script notes on his computer.

“A lot of music videos do basic shots of the band,” I thought aloud. Ross voiced my next thought aloud.

“But we don’t have a normal band setup,” Ross said, but he was thinking how to still do that type of scene. “What if it’s just you and Smith singing? We could even do it outside somewhere, maybe where we filmed ‘Sad for Good’?” he suggested. I actually thought it wasn’t a bad idea, we could probably do someone playing their guitar as well, for the “instrument” feel of the music video.

“When’s the next ok weather day?” Smith asked eagerly, but he didn’t wait for anyone to say as he checked the forecast himself. “Saturday’s looking pretty good, it may actually even be sunny. How’s that sound?” Everyone responded that it worked for them, so we picked a time. “It’s a bit out of town, I can get you Andrea.” We did a little bit more planning, deciding Ross and Trott would be Winston and Wesley, respectively.

“I can do makeup on you, Trott, to look like a bruise,” I added.

“Now we just need to find a café to film in,” Trott answered.

“What if we did it at the place we met at last week?” I said, looking at Smith. “It’s not far from my place, so I can do your bruise not in the car,” I added.

“It sounds like we have a busy Saturday then. We can meet at Andrea’s flat at noon, then head to the café,” Smith planned, looking at me for confirmation, so I nodded. “Then once we’re done with that bit we can head out to film the rest.” I gave the rest of the group my address so they’d know where to go on Saturday. I looked at my phone, seeing it was around 8pm now. My brain decided to emphasize my long day by making me yawn, which Smith noticed. “Well, I think we’re done for the day, ready to head out Andrea?” he asked.

“Yup,” I said, getting up to put my guitar in its case. “I’ve had a great time working with you guys, even if we got done a lot quicker than expected.”

“That just gives us more time for more songs,” Trott chimed in. “Though the next one I request is a funny one.” We all smiled and chucked at that.

Once everything was packed up, Smith and I left the Hat’s office. The sun had just set, but with the clouds it was pretty dark. If the ride was any longer, I would have fallen asleep, but fortunately we arrived at my flat in ten minutes. Once he parked I unbuckled my seat belt. I turned to say goodbye to Smith, to find him watching me, looking as if he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the right words. “You were great today,” was all he ended up managing. I could tell he was struggling, I sympathized with him.

“Thanks, you were too,” I said. Whether it was tension or awkwardness, the air in his car was filled with it. If he was feeling the same way as me, it was a big bowl of shyness. I could tell he was contemplating something, he scratched his short beard and kept looking at me. He seemed to have made up his mind, after a hesitant second he leaned over the gear shift and kissed me on the cheek. As soon as he started moving I knew what he was going for, but instead I froze. I couldn’t tell if he was going for a normal kiss or a kiss on the cheek, but regardless he did it very smoothly. I had apparently started smiling, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Good night,” he said, with a big grin on his face. I wanted to kiss him back, however he had the longer torso to properly reach over the gear shift, being nine inches shorter than him didn’t help. I tried to figure out for a few seconds how to achieve my goal, but he seemed to have understood my glances around his car, and “casually" leaned on his elbow on the console in between our chairs, making it easy for me to reach his face. For a split second I thought about just straight up kissing him, but instead opted to mimic him, getting the same reaction I probably gave him just a few seconds before.

“Good night,” I said, still smiling. I finally got out of his car and got my guitar. “See you Saturday,” I added before I shut the backseat door. I figured he’d start to drive off as I walked up to the door, but when I turned around for some reason, he was still there, and he gave me a goofy wave, which I gladly returned, before I went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so Andrea’s brainstorm to fix the lines was actually legit what happened in my head as I typed this chapter. I wanted to make it rhyme but had no clue how, then that glorious train of thought happened.


	6. Cinematography and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea and the Hats film their music video.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! So I didn't really touch this in months, but finally sat down and continued writing. I don't know when the next chapter will be up as usual.
> 
> Ross’s shirt is based on [ his outfit from MCM](https://youtu.be/-9C5nPngKEc?t=3m8s), his coat is like the one he wore in [ sad for good](https://youtu.be/R4HffK65SZI), Trott's is basically his [ filthy day outfit](https://youtu.be/BV7jsWaWKt0), and Smith’s is based on [ thier Trials Fusion Hot Sauce video](https://youtu.be/pqrun3WOqJ0) and his shoes from his Filthy Day outfit. Andrea’s outfit is essentially like mine [ here](http://adapted-batteries.tumblr.com/post/133657521062/having-some-fun) but with darker jeans.

Besides some texts, I didn’t talk to Smith much the rest of the week. Instead, I focused on my course, like I should. I felt pretty confident I could give Trott a real-looking black eye after watching several tutorials on YouTube, though I'd never done special effects makeup before. I had all confidence in Ross to make the video look good, as he did with most videos he filmed. 

I didn't want to seem overeager, but I had developed a tentative plan for filming. Trott and Ross would have their shoot first, since their main parts were the café scene. Everything else would be either myself or Smith, or both of us, which we had all agreed on to do somewhere outside. Obviously, when there was harmony, there would be shots of me and Smith together, otherwise it would be just Smith singing, or me just playing guitar. Though I had this plan, I hoped whoever was playing director had everything planned as well.

Soon enough it was nearing noon on Saturday. I warned my flatmates that I was having guests for a bit, but most of them were either going to be sleeping or already out. The place with the best light was actually going to be my room; Mary was already up and had migrated to the couch with her laptop. I had already set up my improvised makeup stand in our room, so I just sat on the couch, counting the minutes down. “Someone's excited,” Mary commented suddenly, startling me out of my intense clock watching.

“Hmm? Oh, uh yeah, I mean, I haven't seen Smith since Tuesday,” I answered. When I had come home Tuesday night, Mary instantly knew something had happened, and later got me to rather easily confess about the kiss in the car.

“He probably won't be obvious in front of his mates,” Mary advised as if she didn't want to disappoint me.

“And I'll try not to either, though he was a bit, uh, obvious Tuesday evening, and they either didn't notice or didn't care,” I stated, glancing down at my phone again. Finally it was noon. I figured they wouldn't be early, but sure enough there was a knock on the door. “Coming,” I called, trying not to be too loud to wake up Sam, if he wasn't up by now.

I opened the door to three familiar faces. “Hey guys, come on in.” As they walked in, I surveyed everyone's wardrobe choice for today. 

Ross had a black wool coat on, buttoned up from the chilly but clear day, with some dark blue jeans and sneakers. A light grey shirt collar was peaking out from the jacket, it seemed like button down material. Upon feeling the warmth of the flat, he unbuttoned the coat, revealing the rest of the rather nice shirt.

Trott had on some lighter blue jeans, and a grey hoodie that looked like it hadn't seen a wash for a while. I didn't know if he did that on purpose or was just lazy, but it would help make his character look a bit more roughed up.

Instead of his regular maroon shirt and chinos, Smith had a nice primarily red flannel on with some dark jeans and light brown boots. He had a black windbreaker on as well, but it was already unzipped. I tried not to stare too much, but it did look good on him.

Without knowing, Smith and I had accidentally coordinated sort of. I had a flannel on as well, but mine was more maroon and dark blue, almost navy. I had my shirt unbuttoned, a Star Wars shirt on underneath much to Ross's approval, but I planned on buttoning it up for the video. I had on my darkest pair of jeans, closer to the navy on my shirt, and currently my black and grey music note socks, my tan boots still in my room.

“Guys, this is Mary, my flat mate and roommate,” I said, remembering to introduce Mary. “Unless you guys want to all cram into the bedroom, Smith and Ross, you can chill out here.” Mary looked up from her laptop to me, raising her eyebrows in a bit of shock before smiling at the two men and going back to whatever she was doing. 

“I like your socks,” Smith commented as I started walking to my room, his voice making me turn around. I had to stop and look down at them, as I had completely forgotten which pair I was wearing, wiggling my toes in the process. When I looked back up to say thanks, the grin on his face was priceless. My thanks was probably strangled, but I cleared my throat to try to start it again.

“So, um, Trott, my room is this way,” I continued, resuming my walk, Trott trailing behind me. Thankfully, Smith and Ross decided to occupy themselves in the living room, letting me concentrate on creating a realistic black eye. At first I wasn't sure I could make it look real, but after adding some green and yellow hues, messing with some blending here and there, I made it look quite believable. 

I hadn't really paid attention to the time, and Trott sat patiently as I worked. Eventually Smith wondered in to see my handiwork as I did some finishing touches, informing us that it had been thirty minutes. “Wow, Trott, it really looks like you got punched in the face,” Smith remarked as he walked behind me to see Trott's face. “Nice work, Andrea,” patting me on the shoulder. I glanced around for a hand mirror, finding one on Mary’s dresser, and handed it to Trott so he could see himself.

“Woah, nice job,” he said as he stared at himself, opening and closing his eye to see my handiwork.

“Well, I’m done with him now,” I started, putting up the eyeshadows and makeup equipment. “I think we’re ready to head out, though I should probably put on shoes.”

“Shoes are good idea,” Smith chuckled. Trott had gotten up out of the chair he was in and went to show Ross, leaving Smith and I alone, as alone as an open door that leads almost directly to the living room and kitchen was. He didn’t seem to be leaving, so I sat in the chair and put my boots on, trying think of something to talk about instead of the weird silence that had settled in the room.

“So do you want to play guitar in the video or do you want me to?” I asked.

“Um, it’s up to you, I mean you did do the main acoustic in the recording,” Smith responded, sitting down on my bed, apparently finding me tying my shoes very interesting.

“True, but the viewers won’t know that,” I countered, sitting up after I finished tying my shoelaces. “I figured I’d bring my guitar anyway.” Since I was ready, I stood up and grabbed my guitar case I had leaned against the wall. Smith got the hint and walked out of my room, letting me follow. “Are we ready to go?” I asked the group in the living room. The Hats responded with yup’s and nods, and we all left my flat.

It wasn’t far to the cafe by car; within five minutes we were already inside, Ross asking the manager if it was okay for us to film. Out of courteousness, and the need for drinks for the scene, we all ordered something as well. The coffee shop wasn’t too busy, so we had the choice of several booths against the windows, making for a great scene. “So Trott, you’re going to sit there for a while, then Ross will come in and ask you if you want anything, and then bring your drinks to the table and sit. Then you need to talk Ross’s ears off,” I said to Trott while Ross waited for his drink, having fun playing director next to the tripod. I looked at the window behind the booth, trying to figure out how to make it night. “We could come back later when it’s dark, but I think their blinds might work,” I thought aloud.

“It’d be more authentic if we came back,” Smith added, sitting where Ross would be in a few minutes.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Trott said, his eyes flicking behind me to Ross who was making his way to our booth.

“We ready to shoot?” Ross asked.

“I think so. We may come back tonight to shoot the final scene, since in the song you said ‘the sun had gone down’,” I answered.

“Sounds good,” Ross said, looking over to Smith. “Smith, mate, get out of the booth.” Smith slid out reluctantly, taking his and my drinks and putting them on a nearby table. I briefed Ross on his part, though he already knew what to do considering he wrote the song. Smith, Ross, and I all clumped behind the camera as Ross called action. We had originally planned to do 30 seconds of this part, but Ross decided otherwise as it recorded. “Trott, I think we should get a bit more of this, I’m going to go for a minute or so, just keep looking sad like that,” Ross instructed. Trott was doing a very good job of sulking in the booth, looking longingly outside every so often. After a minute, Ross zoomed out off Trott to accommodate his height, then stepped out from behind the camera to start his part, and walked up to the table. “Can I get you something?” Ross asked in character.

“Yeah,” Trott muttered, looking up at Ross and nodding slightly, as if he was startled out of a daydream. Ross then went off camera again to the table where he sat their drinks.

“Okay Trott, look at me as I come to the table and say something like ‘thanks mate’,” Ross directed. Trott followed the directions perfectly, really getting into his character. “Ok, talk to me for like a minute.”

Trott hesitated a bit as he thought of a monologue, then started talking to Ross about random things. “So we need to do another ‘havin’ a bash’ soon, the fans are really wanting something retro again. Maybe we can do something on Monday if we have time. In other news, Smith’s a prick, but of course you already knew that. I'd really like to drink my coffee, but it's way too hot right now. I also should have definitely thought of a topic before we started this so I could ramble easier. My cheek randomly itches right now, but I don't want to mess up my eye so I won't scratch it. Whoever watches this and can read lips well is going to have a laugh. I really hope someone does and gets really confused. Hello to whoever that may be. Man this minute isn't going by fast, Ross you should definitely interject so I can take a break talking."

“Maybe I want you to suffer,” Ross responded, thinking about what he could ask Trott to talk about. “Tell me about your holiday plans or something.”

“I don't know what I'm doing for Christmas yet, I mean we'll probably go up and see Katie's family like normal, there'll be the office Christmas party. We also got to plan something obnoxious for the crazy livestreams too. We should totally have Andrea on to jam or something, I'll keep looking at Ross but what do you think about that Andrea? You can answer when we're done cos' it'll look weird if I just stop for some seconds. Ok, I think we're close enough to a minute or so, so I'm gonna stop talking now so I can drink something." Trott slouched in his chair as he finished his monologue. “How was that?” he asked Smith and me.

“It was great, and yeah, I’d love to be on the live streams, if it’s ok with you guys,” I answered. Perhaps I was just imagining things, but out of the corner of my eye, it looked like Smith smiled at that. “Ok, that’s it for now, the next part we need it to be night. Off to the next location I guess?”

“I’ll let the manager know we’ll be back later. Will the sun be down by 5:30?” Ross asked.

“Mostly, enough for the scene,” Smith responded.

Once again we were back in the car, this time heading to the infamous set location of “Sad for Good.” It was a bit chilly outside, somewhere around 12 or 13 degrees Celsius with a bit of a wind. My choice of a mocha was a good idea, a perfect temperature once we arrived. No one was out surprisingly, which was great for us. “So where do we want to film first?” I asked as we all got out of the car.

“What if we had you guys sit on that trough, have that castle in the background,” Trott suggested.

I looked at Smith to see what he thought, he looked back at me, I gave him a nod. “Sure,” Smith answered for us. We made our way to the location, guitar in one hand, drinks in the other. Ross staged us in the shot, and we did a practice run through and made sure we were singing and playing at the same time.

“Ok, let’s do the whole song, that way we can pull anything we need from here,” Ross said behind the camera. “Aaand Action.” I started playing, watching Smith to make sure he got the entrance, then looking at the camera like he was, joining in with my harmony at my entrance. Sometimes my eyes would wander away from the camera as I played, looking behind Trott and Ross at the trees, below the camera at the grass, and sometimes to Smith. Towards the end of the song, my eyes made their way to Smith again, but I didn’t know he was already looking at me. Normally I’d look away, but something didn’t let me, and we finished the song without looking off. I vaguely recognized I’d stopped playing, but I didn’t snap out of the stare until Ross called “cut.” Smith laughed, I cleared my throat as we looked away, back to Ross who was giving us our next location. “I was thinking we could head to the woods, get some shots of you guys singing in the trees or something.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” Smith answered, watching me out of the corner of his eye. _Great, I’ve gone and made it awkward,_ I thought as we trudged to the treeline. Ross had a specific place he wanted to film just Smith, so we started there first. Trott stood next to me off to the side while Ross prepared.

“Hey, you guys did great,” Trott commented as I watched Ross work. “That ending almost made it like the song was about you two.”

“It wasn’t awkward, was it?” I asked, leaning a bit and speaking lower. Trott turned slightly to me before answering.

“No, well, it’d keep the shippers busy anyway,” Trott mused, looking back to Smith moving around for Ross. “You guys work well together.”

“Our voices do blend well,” I responded.

“I didn’t mean just that, though it is true,” Trott said, treading lightly. I knew what he meant, but I thought about my answer.

“I don’t want to mess up the work dynamic,” I sighed, Ross cutting me off before I could continue.

“Trott, get the song ready. After the second chorus, Smith’s gonna move a bit, so be ready to pause,” Ross commanded. Trott pulled out his phone and tapped his way to the song.

“Ready,” Trott called.

“Start the song,” Ross ordered, waiting for the first few measures before calling action. Smith sang up to the second chorus. “Cut,” Ross called again, making Trott pause the song. “Ok, Smith, go to that viney tree like before. We’ll do the next two verses, then we’re done for just Smith.” Smith followed his orders, requiring Trott to move closer to Smith so he could hear the music. I decided to stay put, watching Smith sing through the screen on the camera. No one could argue that Smith couldn’t sing; his rich voice filled the forest, it was almost surreal that I was hearing this in person, involved in the videos I had been laughing at for years. The music stopped again as Ross called cut; I stood patiently, waiting for Ross's instruction. “Ok the last shot I was thinking of was just around the bend,” Ross stated, pointing to where the sort of path bent left in the trees. “We only need to film the parts where both of you are singing,” he stated as he picked up the tripod to move. 

We all followed Ross to a large oak tree. I figured he would just want us to stand there like Smith had for his part, but a part of me wanted to do something funny, or at least add movement. “Both of you go to the tree, stand on either side. Maybe lean on it, actually. Yeah. Ok, Trott, get it queued to the line before the chorus. Aaaand action.” I listened for my pitch, and did my harmony, making sure I wasn't creepily staring into the camera. We recorded all the parts we dueted within minutes, leaving us with a couple hours until sundown. 

I suppose the caffeine kicked in; once we finished I spontaneously started singing my harmony at the tree with obnoxious passion. Smith looked at me confused for a second before joining in, us both aggressively singing at the poor oak tree. I heard Trott laugh and say something, but I wasn't paying attention as I started sauntering around the tree, still singing. Eventually we got to the end of the song, stopping for breath after the rigorous belting and circling. I looked up to see Ross and Trott closer to us, Ross holding the camera at us, probably filming. Realizing this would probably end up on the behind the scenes vid, I stared at the camera, mustering the best serious face I could. “Caffeine does some weird things do you, kids,” I said, bursting out in laughter only a few seconds later with everyone else. 

Once we all calmed down, Trott pulled out his phone to check the time. “It's only 3:48, we have a couple hours before the sun is down enough to do the last bit.”

“What do you propose we do, Scrotty?” Smith asked, falling into the normal banter.

“I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting hungry,” Ross answered.

“Me too,” I added, noticing that my breakfast at 10am had worn off. 

“What sounds good guys?” Trott asked, looking on his phone for places nearby.

“Anyone up for a cheeky Nando’s?” Smith joked through his gritted teeth.

“Honestly, that sounds kind of good,” I started, looking around to see how the guys reacted. I did enjoy my chicken, and I was hungry, even if Smith was joking. My eyes settled on Smith, who looked back at me with a contemplating shrug.

“I’m up for it,” he added. Trott looked up from his phone to Smith, then Ross.

“Sure,” Trott shrugged. “What about you Ross?”

“Yeah, I’m fine with it,” Ross responded.

“Nando’s it is then,” Trott announced, signalling our trek back to the car.

Ten minutes later we pulled into Nando’s parking lot. The smell of food made my stomach growl louder, Smith actually heard it next to me. “I take it you're hungry,” Smith joked as we walked inside.

“Famished,” I responded. Once we ordered our meals, we found an empty booth in the surprisingly busy restaurant. “For the sake of elbow bumping, I think the lefties should sit together,” I proposed.

“I support that,” Trott chuckled, letting me slide into the booth before sitting next to me. I figured Smith sat on the inside of his side of the booth on purpose, wanting to be across from me. “Woah, Smith on the inside,” Trott quipped, confirming my suspicions. He put his hand up to his mouth to fake-hide his next comment. “Just cos she's pretty doesn't mean you get to bang her, you randy twat.” I knew he was joking, but a slight blush crept up onto my face as well as Smith's. I glanced over to Trott, who winked at me.

It took a few more seconds then normal for Smith to formulate his comeback, obviously thrown off by Trott's remark. “You wish I treated you that way, OOH,” Smith retorted through gritted teeth. We all realized that his comeback wasn't great for a pretty obvious reason. Thankfully Ross decided to change the subject.

“Ok you randy pricks, spare Andrea from your homoerotic tension. Anyway, I think today went really well. I got some really nice shots,” Ross said.

“I had a great time today. I haven't done a music video in a long time, it was nice to get back into it,” I responded.

“Smith mentioned you had done one before, do you mind if we saw it?” Trott asked. After spending the afternoon with them, I felt much less embarrassed then when I first showed Smith.

“Sure, though it won't sound great on the phone speaker,” I responded, pulling my phone out of my pocket and going into my videos. Once I pulled it up, I let it play, watching both Trott and Ross’s facial expressions as the song progressed, with a somewhat sneaky glance at Smith, who was watching them as well. 

When the video finished, Ross immediately asked, “what was your set up?”

“Nothing professional, everything was recorded on my computer through a mixer and I used free audio and video editing softwares,” I answered. My eyes glanced to Smith, he was grinning at me.

“Free? You did a great job for that,” Trott said. I could only mutter a thanks before the food showed up; I was more than ready to consume my chicken.

Once everyone finished eating, we still had about 30 more minutes until sundown. It was starting to get darker, but not as dark as we needed it, and the drive was only around 15 minutes, so we just hung out and talked. The conversation quickly wandered to Trott’s question earlier that day for me joining them on the streams. They didn't know when their slots were yet, but I assured them that I was pretty much free for most of December for the evening/night streams. I was very excited for the prospect of getting to do improv with them on stream, something I'd only dreamed about as I watched years past. “The only thing I won't do is an eating challenge. My stomach is nowhere near the size of Smith's,” I stated.

“Oh, based on how quickly you just ate, you'd probably beat Ross,” Smith joked. 

I laughed but shook my head. When it came to a normal meal, I tended to wolf down my food, but I could not eat more than normal. “Sorry, but I don't want to get sick, even if it's for charity. I'll just be your guys’s cheerleader.”

“Can I back out and be a cheerleader too?” Ross asked. He actually sounded a bit genuine. I recalled how sick he looked after the chicken nugget competition last Christmas, and immediately felt sorry for him.

“We can make up cheers and everything, get outfits too,” I added, trying to gauge how much Ross wanted to get out of the eating challenge.

“I think we'd get more donations from Ross in a cheerleader outfit than from him eating,” Trott concluded.

“If I can get out of eating, I'll take it,” Ross quipped. We all laughed at Ross’s sincerity. I looked out the windows and saw it had gotten quite a lot darker.

“Well, I think it's getting dark enough,” I said. “Ready to head out?” A chorus of various yes’s answered me; I waited patiently while Trott scooted out of of the booth. 

When we stepped outside, I noticed it had gotten a lot colder now that the sun had just dropped below the horizon. I hadn't brought a coat, so I was glad we had finished the outdoor shots. The car had cooled considerably since we were last in it; perhaps it hadn't been the best habit to keep my hands wrapped around my drink while we were talking earlier. We hadn't even pulled out of the parking lot yet before I started rubbing my hands together.

“You cold?” Smith asked. He had sat in the back with me every time we got in the car. 

“Just my hands,” I answered.

“Here,” Smith said, and offered his hands to me. I glanced up front to Trott and Ross, but they were busy having a conversation of their own. Considering my interaction with Trott earlier, and because my hands were cold, I didn't hesitate much. “Woah, they are cold,” he smirked. He may not of noticed, but his grin undid me. Only the cool of the car kept my blush from showing brightly.

That car ride ended too quickly in my opinion; all too soon he retracted his warm hands from mine as we arrived back at the café. By now it was dusk, dark enough to follow the lyrics. The café was practically empty, so we went to the same booth as before. Smith had apparently slipped away from us while Ross set up the camera and I did some touch ups on Trott's face. I didn't notice he had left until I had finished Trott’s eye, looking up to see him with a cup in his hand. I assumed it was for himself, to make up for the fact that we were filming again in the café, but as I moved out of the shot and behind the camera, he handed the cup to me. 

“For those cold fingers,” he said, that smirk seemingly permanent on his face.

“Well, they aren't cold now,” I responded with a wink, gratefully taking the cup of what smelled like earl grey from his hands. 

“Would you two quit flirting? I’d like to start and get this done with. I wanna scratch my eye so bad right now,” Trott interjected, making us both jump. I knew he was definitely joking as I turned to look at him, getting a wink and an eyebrow raise. “The scene won’t take but a few minutes, then you can go bang all you want later.”

“Alright Trotty-Too-Hotty,” Smith retorted, slight annoyance in his voice. His face turned from that lovely smile to almost a scowl as he got ready to record them. I gave Trott a bit of a glare, a referencing glance to Smith before looking back to him. He seemed to understand my meaning and gave a quick nod. Hopefully he’d talk to him or something to clarify his joking. 

Ross was either completely oblivious to the whole thing or just wanted to get done with filming. “Ok, Trott, so you look, um, sad or something, then Andrea will say the shop’s closing off camera. We both look, then I’ll look to you and ask if you’ve got anywhere to go. You shake your head no, then I’ll offer to let you come home with me, and you smile, but not too excited. Then we get out of the booth,” Ross directed. “Everyone ready?” Everyone responded with ‘yes’ and such. “Smith, start recording. Aaand, action.”

As Trott made up conversation with Smith, I went to the side of the shot so they wouldn’t be looking at the camera. “Shop’s closing,” I said. They both looked at me nearly insync before Ross looked back to Trott, and Trott stared at the table.

“You got anywhere to go?” Ross asked. Trott shook his head as he was told earlier.

“You can stay with me if you’d like,” Ross continued. Trott looked up, a happy smile breaking the sad look in his eyes.

“Really?” Trott asked.

“Yeah,” Ross answered. “Come on, let’s get going, it’s getting late.” Trott took his cue to scoot out of the booth, which Ross followed near instantly. Once they both got off camera, Ross called cut to Smith. “Well, that’s it. I want to watch it back, make sure it’s fine before leave.” We all huddled around Ross to watch the short scene. “Maybe Trott should have a drink? It looks kind of empty not having one there,” Ross suggested.

“We can use mine,” I said, handing my drink to Trott.

“Ok so everything’s the same as last time,” Ross started, getting back into the booth. “Start recording, aaand action.” As Ross instructed, everything was near identical to the previous scene, except for the addition of the cup. He looked at the preview and decided it was good. “That’s everything then. You guys did great.” Ross started packing up the camera while I grabbed my drink off the table.

“I had a great time today,” I stated, trying to fill in the silence. Trott was stood next to Smith, talking lowly, so I let them be. “How long do you think it’ll take to put the music video together?” I asked Ross.

“Depends on who’s editing it. If I do it, I’ll have it done by Monday probably,” he answered. “You guys ready to go?” he asked the two talking off to the side as he grabbed the tripod to leave. They ceased their conversation and looked to us.

“Yup,” Trott responded for them both. We left the cafe and got back into the car; the clouds had moved in and it looked like it was going to rain. Smith yet again sat in the back with me, though he seemed a bit ancy. Thankfully Trott kept talking to me about various things so I could ignore it.

Sure enough, it started lightly raining as Ross pulled up to my flat. “See you later guys,” I said as I prepared to step outside. Smith opened his door as I opened mine, beating me to the boot of the car. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he said as he grabbed my guitar case for me, that smirk once again making its way to his face. Fortunately for us, my building had an awning above the front door, sheltering us from the rain. I wasn’t sure why he had suddenly been so formal, so I just stood there and waited. He looked as if he was thinking intensely.

“Um, I’d like my guitar,” I stuttered. He snapped out of his reverie.

“Oh, uh, yeah, here you go,” he mumbled, handing me my case. 

“I’ll see you later, then,” I hesitated, not quite ready to head inside despite the chill of cold rain starting to get to my bones.

“Yeah,” he stammered, his eyes revealing he was thinking again. 

Suddenly Trott’s voice interrupted our staring contest. “Either kiss her or say goodnight before you catch a cold you twat!” I couldn’t help but giggle as Smith’s face went bright red. 

“He’s got a point,” I chuckled, trying to ease his embarrassment. Smith looked from Trott to me a helpless grin on his face. Finally he mustered up enough courage, and leaned down and kissed me. His nose was cold against my blushing cheek, but I quickly forgot about that as my brain caught up with the scene. Was this really happening? Was it a dream? No, he felt way too real on my lips, I was certainly awake. I felt his hand make its way to my waist, and a shrill whistle from Trott in the car. Once I remembered I needed oxygen to stay conscious, I pulled away to breathe.

“I’m that good am I,” Smith smirked, his hand staying on my waist. My free hand playfully slapped him on the shoulder.

“You get too cocky and you won’t get anymore,” I chided playfully, my grin matching his. 

“Oooh, cheeky,” he joked through gritted teeth, before breaking back into his grin. He leaned in one last time for a quick kiss, that ended up not being as quick as he intended, before he pulled away. “I’ll definitely be seeing you later,” he winked, before releasing me from his grasp. 

“See ya,” I responded, my grin seemingly permanent on my face as he turned to sprint back to the car and slide in the backseat. Both him and Trott waved as Ross pulled out into traffic. 

The grin didn’t leave my face as I got up to my flat, hearing familiar voices chatting inside. When I opened the door, Mary, who was sitting on the couch next to Kate, immediately recognized the grin on my face. “You lucky girl,” she quipped. A blush tagged along with the never-ending grin. I couldn’t wait until I next saw Smith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been to a Nando’s; though there are some in America, they are quite far away from me. If I described it wrong, I apologize, I was going off the pictures I saw. And I know Smith recently said he didn’t like the “cheeky Nando’s” joke, but I already wrote that before I saw that stream, so just go with it.
> 
> Who knows when the next chapter of this will be out. As usual, I write this as it comes to me.


End file.
